


Sparks

by irishcookie



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, MCU based only, Shieldshock if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9720011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishcookie/pseuds/irishcookie
Summary: Darcy stumbles upon the strangest thing in the lab one night.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shortly after seeing Doctor Strange I wondered what would happen if Darcy meet Stephen Strange. Months later I actually decided to make my prompt a thing. Unfortunately it's been awhile since I have seen Doctor Strange and this is my first attempt at writing Stephen. Hopefully it works! Let me know what you think.

Darcy is bleary eyed as she shuffles down the hall at a little after 4 in the morning. Part of her wants to go right back where she came from ( _a nice warm bed_ ). Instead she feels her way towards the lab with her fingers, cursing when she stubs her toe on box ( _why haven’t they unpacked that yet — it’s been weeks_ ).

She has a _feeling_. 

One strong enough that she had been jolted from dreams of a certain _spangly_ super solider. She knows better than to ignore said feeling. She has done that approximately two times in her life and both ended in disaster ( _that she would rather not talk about thank you very much_ ). 

Half limping from her encounter with the big bad box, Darcy pushes open the door to the lab and sure enough — her feeling is validated. “ _JAN_ E!” She tries her best to sound authoritarian. She sounds surprised instead which is fitting because her companion clearly hasn’t heard her coming ( _even with all that cursing_ ). 

Jane’s body jolts and then she lets out a high pitched squeak. “Darcy,” Jane states as she turns away from a machine. She looks sheepish — like a kid caught after curfew. In a way she is. 

Darcy stands in the doorway of the lab, hands on her hips. “You _promised_.” 

“I know…” 

“You promised,” Darcy repeats. “Five hours of uninterrupted sleep. No scribbling notes under the covers with a flashlight, no staring at the ceiling while working equations and definitely _no lab_!” 

“But…” 

“No _buts_ either,” Darcy states and watches Jane’s head hang. She has her on the ropes. “It was our deal. I forsaked my bed until three in the morning just to ensure that you didn’t end up drooling on the….” She glanced at the complex machine still beeping away on the table. “…on _the doohickey of importance_ because you promised me you would get some real sleep. Time to keep that promise, missy.” 

“Yes, Darcy.” 

“Damn straight it’s _yes, Darcy_ ,” She says in triumph. Before Jane can get her second wind and try to argue her down to four hours of sleep, Darcy has her hands on her friend’s shoulders and she is steering her back towards her bedroom. “This is for your own good you know. You won’t be able to report on all these exciting new findings…” That Darcy does not understand in the least. “…if you can’t properly string two words together.” They reach Jane’s bedroom and she gives her friend a little shove. “Now go! Sleep.” 

Jane stumbles and Darcy almost lurches forward to ensure that Jane doesn’t end up face first on the floor. Thankfully Jane has enough left in her to right her steps. She looks drunk as she weaves and bobs towards her bed. 

Darcy decides that for the sake of her own sleep cycle she will bear witness to Jane’s final descent. She moves further into the room, her fingers playing with the hem of the t-shirt she is wearing. Jane clearly is not interested in sleepwear, instead just flopping on her bed hard enough to bounce. “Doesn’t that feel nice?” 

Jane says something directly into the mattress. Darcy is sure it is words of agreement. 

“Sweet dreams of Asgardians with big hammers, Jane,” Darcy says fondly, already stepping backwards towards the exit ( _she can practically taste her bed_ ). She continues her escape and is nearly free when Jane bolts up straight in bed. 

“Darcy!” 

Darcy’s heartbeat is pounding against her chest. “What the hell? You trying to kill me before I turn thirty?” 

“Turn it off,” Jane instructs and for a moment Darcy is lost. “It needs to be powered down if no one is monitoring it.” 

Ah… _the doohickey of importance_. 

“I got your back,” she promises and leaves as soon as Jane falls back on the bed. She doesn’t need to look twice to know her friend is deep asleep. She’ll be doing the same as soon as she follows through on her last good deed of the night. 

She avoids the box this time as she makes her way into the lab. Without Jane to focus on, Darcy finds the whole thing… _kind of creepy_. “Right, doohickey and then skedaddle,” she vows and crosses the space towards the machine that is still blinking its own version of Morose Code. She bends down, squinting to find the off switch. Predictably it is not labelled. “ — I’m going to blow my ass up before I’ve had the chance to climb Mount Rogers.” 

It’s a real possibility. 

Her hand hovers over the machine for a moment or two, fingers dancing between two buttons ( _she narrows it down by color_ ). She considers playing Eenie Meenie Miney Mo but that seems wholly unscientific. Finally, she decides to go with her gut. After all, she has a good track record ( _minus those two times_ ). 

She is about to press the circular button on the side when something catches her eye. Or more accurately, she notices an orange glow bathing the otherwise darkened room. Uh oh. She takes a deep breath and glances over her shoulder. 

_Sparks_. 

There are sparks. 

“Oh _shit_!” She cries, a panic seizing her immediately. Sparks aren’t good. Sparks are _never_ good. She can’t tell exactly what piece of equipment is about to burst in flames but does that really matter at this point? 

Instead of trying to locate the exact source she scrambles, tripping over Jane’s sneakers. She lands with an audible _umph_ but it proves to be a useful maneuver. She can see the fire extinguisher now tucked away under the desk. She drags it towards her, fingers working the pin as she does so. By the time she is on her feet again, she is ready to unload the whole thing. 

_On sparks that have formed a circle — a swirling circle_. 

She blinks, wondering if it some science thing or if she has finally lost her goddamn mind. Either way, she is better off _not_ getting hypnotized by odd display. It’s still the beginnings of a catastrophe after all. 

She lets loose with the fire extinguisher and a _funny_ thing happens. 

(not so much _funny haha_ as _funny wtf is this_ ) 

Through the cloud of white she sees a shape emerging in the center of the sparks. It starts small and she squints as it takes on a more discernible form. A human form. 

Her mouth falls open. For a moment her grip on the extinguisher falters but there are still sparks so she redoubles her efforts. 

“Stop! _Stop_!” A male voice echoes through the space. 

Still in shock as to what she has just witnessed, Darcy actually complies. The sparks have gone and the cloud of carbon dioxide is settling, bathing the surrounding area in a white residue. 

There is a rather large lump in the middle of it all. 

She is breathing heavily as she reaches for the lights. The sudden brightness is harsh on her eyes and she blinks repeatedly to help them adjust. Then she is looking to the floor. 

It is…a red ball. 

At least that is what is looks like. 

She is still clutching the fire extinguisher, only now it serves as weapon. She takes a step closer to the newcomer and then immediately hops back when the red ball begins to wiggle violently. 

“Yes, yes, I am alright. No need for this cocoon,” the male voice says and an arm shoots out from underneath. It is followed by a leg. She tilts her head as the red covering seems to unfold itself from around the source of the voice. 

She raises the extinguisher expecting the worse. 

Then makes a face at what she sees. 

“You don’t look like an alien,” she states ( _a silly thing to say considering the last ‘alien’ she met had a heck of a six pack_ ). 

The man finally seems to acknowledge her. His head turns quickly so he is looking directly at her. “Excuse me?” 

“Alien,” she says slowly, wondering if his birth through a sparkly circus hoop has damaged his hearing. “You don’t look like an alien.” 

He stands ( _oh boy he’s tall_ ). There is a furious patting down of his arms and she realizes that that red thing is a cape. Not a Thor cape either. This one seems to be alive because it is _helping_ its wearer get rid of any proof he has sprayed down. He finally looks to her again. “That is because I am not.” 

_Huh, that’s new_. 

“So…you’re…not from Asgard?” She asks, throwing in one last ditch effort for an explanation that would at least make sense to her. 

“No, I am not Asgardian,” he assures her. “I’m Stephen Strange.” 

“Got that right,” she immediately retorts, noting that he has a particularly interesting take on facial hair. 

He levels a dirty look in her direction. “ _Doctor_ Stephen Strange.” 

Darcy hasn’t let up on her grip on the fire extinguisher. “ _Darcy_ Lewis.” 

For a moment she thinks he looks wounded that she hasn’t recognized him. Then he straightens himself up. “Not Jane Foster then? Where is she?” 

“Sleeping. Like most people do at this time of night,” Darcy tells him. She blinks again and then wonders why she is answering his questions. “Okay, hold up — just what the hell are you doing here? And did you _seriously_ come through… _nothing_?” 

There is a hint of a grin on his face. “No, I did not come from nothing. That would be physically impossible. I am afraid that the true explanation is complicated…” 

“I work with a world renowned astrophysicist. _Try me_.” 

He must take it as a challenge ( _good, she has meant it as one_ ). “I have the ability to travel throughout various dimensions —” 

“Stop. Stop right there,” Darcy says, raising the hand holding the nozzle of the extinguisher. “I am either too tired or not drunk enough to discuss the idea of traveling between dimensions.” She knows of traveling between worlds — but that’s different then dimensions ( _or she really has misunderstood the foundation of Jane’s research; entirely possible_ ). “Let’s just focus on the first question: _what the hell are you doing here_?” 

“Jane Foster is currently working on establishing contact between Earth and various other worlds,” Stephen states. “Fascinating science really — almost within the realm of the fantastical…” 

When he shifts his weight, she swings the fire extinguisher over her shoulder, wielding it like a baseball bat. “How do you know that?” 

“Are you going to hit me with that?” 

“Right in that goateed face of yours,” Darcy confirms. “Pro Tip: Tony Stark does it better.” 

Stephen appears to weigh his options and then holds up both hands. “I truly did not come here for nefarious purposes.” 

“Most non-nefarious people use the door,” Darcy points out. 

He clucks his tongue. “— hardly as convenient.” 

Her initial burst of adrenaline is starting to wear off and the exhaustion is creeping in to take its place. “Look, _Doctor Strange_ , if you want to discuss science with Jane make an appointment with her assistant. Which is me by the way. Sorry to stay she’s busy for the next decade or so. So you and your…cape thing…” Did it just ruffle at Darcy’s words? “…are shit out of luck.” 

“Oh I don’t want to discuss,” Stephen corrects. “Not yet. I just want to go over notes. See if she has made any progress since last time…” 

_Since last time_? 

It dawns on her. 

“This isn’t your first time fire jumping your way in here, is it?” She asks, horrified. “You…come here when we are sleeping?” 

He seems to realize the implications of her accusation. “Well…just once. And only for a minute or two.” 

Darcy screws her face up. “Oh you _absolute creep_!” She swings the extinguisher now. It is a clumsy attempt and goes wide. Still the _goddamn cape_ swipes out and knocks the thing from her hands. She is left standing there open mouthed and filled with an odd mixture of fury and confusion. “That thing…that’s the alien.” 

Stephen furrows his brows. “You might be right on that.” One of the flaps springs up, knocking itself off his cheek. “Don’t take it personally.” He paws at it until it returns to normal. 

Then he is looking at Darcy intently. She realizes she is standing there in a pair of underwear and her Culver t-shirt. Not exactly her best look considering the situation. She is about to give him hell when she realizes he is not looking at her. He is looking past her. She glances over her shoulder to find what has caught his attention. 

_The doohickey of importance_. 

“She managed to get it working,” he states with just the right amount of awe to have Darcy beaming proudly. 

“Of course she did.” 

Stephen makes a move towards it and Darcy yelps, throwing herself between the strange man and Jane’s current reason for living. 

“No touching!” She tells him, pressing her hands on his chest ( _impressive pecks for someone whose cape does the fighting for him_ ). She squirms to turn around. “Actually I was just shutting it down for the night…” She extends her finger to press the circle button once more. 

“No! _No_! Don’t do that!” Stephen’s voice is loud and Darcy jumps, banging her hip into the side of the table. She turns to give him a dirty look. “I mean — by all means, press it if you wish to find yourself in multiple pieces.” 

_Okay, first thing tomorrow: Jane is labeling the buttons_. 

Stephen reaches around her and presses the square bottom on the top. The blinking stops and the machine makes a noise that she can only equate to powering down. “There,” he says with a rather large smile. “Perfectly safe.” 

“ — thanks,” she deadpans. “Now get the hell out.” 

“I suppose that is the best thing to do,” Stephen concedes. He steps back and goes into a stance that has Darcy snorting out a giggle, despite everything. He glares in her direction and then eloquently flicks his wrist. Seconds later those sparks reappear and form a circle. 

She can see _the Empire State Building_ in the center of it. 

That shuts her up. 

He grins once more and steps towards it. 

Darcy finally finds her voice. “…and no more middle of the night… _these things_ …” She makes a circular motion towards at the impossible thing hovering in the middle of the lab. “You want to visit, you make an appointment. I’m serious. I’m setting up motion detectors and everything.” 

_Okay, Jane will set them up_. 

Stephen gives a nod of his head. Then steps through the circle. Moments later it fades until there are only a few sparks left. She can’t help but stick her finger out to let one touch her finger as it falls. She hisses as it burns her skin. 

She leaves the lab as it is ( _white foam on the floor, fire extinguisher lying haphazardly next to the computer tower_ ) and hits the lights. She needs her bed. Badly. She repeats Jane’s actions and practically throws herself at it. 

She finds herself suckling her singed finger as she thinks over the entire crazy encounter. 

In the end, she decides that _yep, sparks are definitely bad_.


End file.
